Manual Handling – The Art of Re-learning How to Touch Myself

Being a sex toy reviewer is ace. It really is. I’m lucky enough to work with amazing companies and people who send me lots of awesome gadgets which give me fabulous orgasms. And then I get to write about it. What’s not to love? I love my self-appointed title of Fuck Gadgeteer, I love sex tech, all the wonderful technical wizardry to make me cum.

Recently I realised as a result of my untold bedroom gadgetry I’ve lost touch with the art of the manual wank. This realisation hit me after reviewing the SenseMax VR Headset. I’d set myself up on the bed, selected some primo VR porn and laid back to enjoy.

Thanks to the surreal realism of the VR I found myself extremely aroused quickly and reached for my pre-selected toys laid out next to me on the bed. Here is where I hit possibly the only snag I’ve found to watching VR porn. It makes you blind to the external world.

Blindly I groped around the bed looking for my favourite Satisfyer and dildo which I’d placed somewhere in the space next to me. It’s only a king size bed, how hard could it be to find them? I stretched my hand out across the bed and began patting, then scooching my hand around the space. No joy.

Frustration Central

Now of course I could have removed the VR mask and found the toys, but the thing is I was fully immersed in the experience and genuinely didn’t want to break the spell. Despite my searching hands my eyes were still absorbing the play happening right in front of me. I could feel my clit tingling and my cunt glistening in anticipation between my naked thighs. Frustration central.

Eventually the lure of the porn got too much, I abandoned the search and slowly began to trace my fingers across my thighs. Navigating my own body was so much easier than blindly groping for toys on my bed. Feeling the softness of my own skin under my fingers in a new way now I was robbed of sight.

Finally reaching my aching clit I felt my nerves on fire. Every inch of my body was alive with sensation as my fingers gently stroked across my clit, feather light to start. Teasing myself softly whilst the play in front of me was purely hardcore.

Lighting Me Up Like Christmas

I had forgotten the pure pleasure of stimulating myself. Forgotten how well I know my own body. Feeling my clit stiffen and swell under my touch I was amazed at how different it felt. I’m not sure if it was because of my restricted vision, or simply because I hadn’t played this way alone for ages, but this was lighting me up like Christmas.

Sliding my fingers down to my cunt I was stunned to feel how wet I was. Circling my juices back onto my clit as lube I couldn’t help the moan that escaped my lips. Laying there blind to the world around me I felt vulnerable and horny as hell.

Finally, my need taking over me I thrust my fingers deep inside me. Grabbing my tits with my other hand and pulling at my nipples. I fingered myself like I was back at home in my teenage bedroom. Back when sex toys were still taboo, and a Womanizer was a man you avoided.

A Labour of Love

Reacquainting myself with all my own unique little kinks and desires. Touching myself in the way only I know how. Sliding my soaked fingers alongside my clit I began to gently stroke, no need to guess the pressure, it’s instinctive just like breathing.

Slowly increasing my pace feeling my orgasm grow, oh it’s a labour of love. By now one of my much-loved wank gadgets would have had me on my second or maybe third climax. But this one must be earnt. Must be coaxed from my body by my own hand.

Arching my back and throwing my head back as the tension cracks and I hit that peak. Pleasure drowning me in wave after wave of intense sensation. I was lost, a moaning, shivering, shaking mess of pure lust.

Prescriptive Orgasms

Laying on the bed afterwards I tried to remember the last time I touched myself like that. I couldn’t recall the last wank I had by my own fair hand and nothing else. Usually there’s a plug in my arse, or a dildo in my hand ready to thrust inside me when I need penetration. Often, I’ve half a mind on the product. What’s the vibration like? Is the girth right for me? Can I feel that texture when it’s inside me? And that’s not to mention all the hundreds of “prescriptive orgasms” I give myself a month with the various toys I own.

Orgasms to cure headaches, sleeplessness, stress, sorrow, anger, illness, split ends. Ok maybe not that last one, but you get my point. These wanks are usually no frills, grabbed often before the alarm goes off, or before I leave for work. In the bath whilst my conditioner sits, or in the ten mins before my kids get home when I finish work. Grab a trusted toy with a guaranteed outcome and BINGO! Instant climax.

I love all the above, they all have their places in my life. But I’ve now promised myself I will make an effort to get myself off without assistance more often. Taking it back to basics, remembering how it feels to manually handle my own pleasure. Getting back in touch with me. After all, how can I expect a lover to know how to touch me if I’ve forgotten how to touch myself.

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